


Partus

by avidvampirehunter



Category: Star Wars Episode IX: The Rise of Skywalker, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: (But the Feelings are Acknowledged), Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fetch Quest but the Treasure is Ben Solo, Force Ghost Smexitimes, Grey Jedi Tropes, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon Fix-It, Rated E for Even Bad Guys Can Be Redeemed (Ya Crazy Hollywood Writers), Romantic Fluff, Slow Burn, Smut, So much angst, Suicidal Thoughts, TRoS Spoilers, Thoughts of Self-harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:02:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21877828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avidvampirehunter/pseuds/avidvampirehunter
Summary: It was the final chapter of the story—but not the last word of theirs.Since Ben Solo vanished during the siege of Exegol, after the ashes have shifted and become nothing, Rey waits alone, searching for answers among the graves of his ancestors, desperate to find a way to restore what was taken from them.With his spirit, and a small voice, living on within her, Rey will do whatever she can to restore the other half of her soul. Shewillgive them the happy ending they deserve.Even if she has to turn to the Dark Side to do it.
Relationships: Finn/Rose Tico, Rey & Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 155
Kudos: 194
Collections: TROS Reylo Fix-it Fics





	1. Marks on the Wall

**Author's Note:**

> TROS is garbage and so am I. No, Rey, the garbage won't do.
> 
> Writing will be as tame as a PG-13 film, aside from some more scary images to come later, as well as exploration of sexual themes. Also I won't be reading other Fix-its for the sake of trying to be true to the plot of _Partus_ , seeing as I doubt my research will outshine anyone else's and offer a lot of common beats anyway... I don't wanna accidentally copy anyone but I also don't want to forsake the plot I've constructed, so better to just not read anything for a while on my end. 
> 
> Also I've never written a fic out of pure spite and depression before, but I hope you like it ❤️🕯️ I'm sorry our boi died, fam. Ben Solo deserved better from the canon. But hey, this is what fanfic is for, so I hope it offers you some escape for a while.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey mourns the loss of her other half, when a familiar visitor reveals a hidden truth that offers a new hope...

* * *

**__ **

**_• partus •_ **

_(Latin root participle of parere)_

_"to give birth, to bring into being; to give **rise** to"_

* * *

**PART ONE**

**THE SEARCH**

* * *

**___**

_I wish I could take it back._

Lightning pulsed beyond the slightest darkness, the runes of ancient life, an ancient evil, crawling up her spine as his body fell limp from her arms.

_Ben…_

**___**

Rey jolted from her deep slumber, her knees knocking as shivers raced along her body. She reached blindly for the covers and pulled them over her as the desert winds whipped beyond the hut window, howling, running ceaselessly, eternally, together.

She closed her eyes and tried to see nothing, but the nothingness only coiled within her heart, black and unexhumable, and she wept.

**___**

Sighing, Rey pressed her hands to the white cloth of her thighs, closing her eyes, squeezing the taut skin there. Pulling into the Force, she took in the bright, binary sunlight, seeking meditation, when her limbs began to quake. Her bones rattled and shrunk, and she cried out softly, left alone, gasping, grasping at the twinging pain in her heart.

She stood dizzily, leaning against the metal barrier of the old Skywalker home. _Her_ home… now. Sand bit at her legs and she was grateful for it, to keep her mind from the pain.

"Hm,” a small voice chirped, warbled with worry.

Rey looked over her shoulder, meeting the glassy eye of BB-8. Too tired to fight for a smile, she nodded. “I’m fine. Go back inside. You’ll get sand in your circuits.”

BB-8 ignored her obvious lie, rolling through the slight dune, watching her face. He groaned and chattered, his binary slick before she pushed away from the wall, glaring down at him with ferocious eyes.

“I said I’m _fine!_ Just leave me alone!"

The droid paused, looking at her, before lowering his dejected head-plate, slinking back towards the door.

Rey breathed out. “Wait,” she urged, cutting him off and kneeling to meet his eye. She frowned at herself, the heaviness of the air taking over her bones. Her voice lowered to something not unlike a whisper. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

BB-8 seemed to consider her for a moment before looking down, rolling to and fro. He beeped softly, tentatively, and the question within it coiled in her gut.

“I do,” she admitted gently. Finally, she was able to admit things to herself. Even, if only, too late. “I do miss him. How couldn’t I?”

Her low voice carried its unspoken wish across the sand and she let her knees sink softly into it, let her fingernails thicken with each grain fitting tightly against her flesh. How easy it would be, to sink herself down into them. To drown and stay drowned. To find him, wherever he is.

“Two halves of the same soul,” she murmured aloud, for yet another countless time since that day. It still confused her, baffled and blinded her. Tears pricked in her eyes at the frustration, the _hate_ of it all. “I didn’t believe him then. I wish I had. I wish there was something…”

A drop stung and streaked down her face, leaving her skin tight, unyielding to even the warmth of the sun, and she crumbled, throwing her arms around BB-8, who did not move save for the slight rest of his head-plate against her neck.

BB-8 whirred softly, cooing something about wishing he had arms, and Rey laughed. A cold, empty, and unfeeling laugh. So different from the joy she’d felt, the hot pinprick of _hope_ at the sight of him alive—that other kindred soul that matched her own—and the bright and yearning smile he’d given only to her.

**___**

That night she sat in her cot, watching dejectedly as BB-8 powered down for the night. She wished she could do the same, but she knew it would be another useless attempt on her part—she would not be sleeping tonight.

As she stewed in the darkness, running her fingers over themselves, moonlight filtered pallidly through the window. She touched it, stroking her own fingertips gently, wondering if, perhaps, that part of him that had vanished might have left traces for her. That she could feel him with her.

But she didn’t.

Swarmed by burdening resentment and an exhaustive inability to keep still, Rey stole from her cot, snatched a shrapnel from her tool bench, and, ensuring BB-8 was asleep, trenched out to a rear wall of the house. With determination she clutched the piece in her hand, and stared at the wall of small marks.

It was two rows now. Nearly a month of hot sunrises and draining sunsets, rising, setting, rising again in endless cycles of life—and all the cruelty that came with it. Her fingers trembled as she rose her hand to the steel, and pressed the tip against its surface.

But the mark did not form. Her arm quaked with weakness, and the anger, the rage, she once sought to abandon now filled her with its intrepid yearning for _something._ Something _more_ , a more she'd found and somehow lost again.

She didn’t know what to do with it, except stare. For a moment she considered etching _herself,_ to mark her skin like she’d marked his, to somehow bring him back in bloodshed and scar. If she could call the Force to her, if it would only obey her, she would destroy the symbol of pain gathering cool sweat in her palm and mangle this base return to what she’d left behind. Let it go. Let it die and sink into the earth, disappear, forgotten.

Instead, she screamed. Thrusting her face to the empty, black abyss, Rey wailed into the darkness where she could not be heard by anyone. She dropped the shrapnel to the sand and wormed her fingers in her hair, heaving with the void eroding her heart.

_I’d never felt so alone._

She wrapped her arms around herself and wept bitterly. The salt of her tears bled through her lips, and she let them fall, harder and faster than any she’d dared to shed when she was a child. When, at least, there was hope someone would come back for her.

_You’re not alone—_

“I am!” she shouted, invisible hands wrapping around her throat. “I _am_ alone! Don’t you see?!” She pounded an empty hand against her heart, where she could feel nothing beating within. Just the chasm of an open wound. She bared her teeth to the empty sands, cursing them for how even _they_ stood in numbers, so alike. “I never wanted this! I never asked to be what I am! I…” her voice broke and she collapsed heavily onto her palms, willing the earth to swallow her, to end it. “…I can’t do this alone. There’s nothing left. All my hope…”

“Rey?”

She looked up, bounding to her feet as a mist of light began to manifest, the rich, familiar voice of an old master surging forth from the silent wind.

“Leia,” Rey whispered, stepping forward. Her heart lurched with yearning. “Leia?”

Before her, in glorious white, emerged the general. Her eyes shined like quiet night stars as she pulled down her ghostly hood, revealing a crown of rich soil and ashen hair, twinned into curls above either ear. From her healthy, downturned lips she murmured, “Oh, Rey…”

Hearing the despair in the woman’s voice, Rey swallowed, brushing the back of her hand over her cheeks. “Is,” she fought to reclaim herself, “is there something you need?”

Leia paused in her advance with hands folded before her hips. She sighed, shaking her head. “No. No, Rey... I’m sorry that all I ever did, all the galaxy ever did, was need you. When all along you needed something no one could give.”

Rey tried not to cry again. She was tired, and yet somehow, her body never seemed to run dry. She only looked down, unable to meet eyes so warm, so tender, so _familiar._

As she did, Leia looked beyond her shoulder at the marks displayed on the wall. A deep sorrow sunk within her cheeks. “Rey.”

Rey looked up, her body aching, pulling her down. She didn't want to move. Perhaps she could sleep tonight, after all. Perhaps she could never awaken again. “Yes?”

Reaching a pale hand forward, Leia stepped closer, and let it hover above her shoulder. Rey felt nothing. No warmth, no touch. Only chilled night air.

Still, the woman searched her eyes, peering, as though seeing something deep within. “I’m sorry for your loss. I blame myself. It was my fault from the beginning.”

Rey scowled, allowing a sense of righteousness to fill her, keeping the despair at bay. “No. I had my part, too.” Her shoulders firmed, fire igniting in her eyes as her empty hands curled into fists. “I should have taken his hand the first time. I should have never fought him on Starkiller Base. I shouldn’t have waited so long to tell him the truth. It’s all _my_ fault.”

“I doubt he would agree,” Leia said softly, warningly. “Things happened as they were meant to happen. He wouldn’t want you to blame yourself, not when—”

“Then let me see him!” Rey barked, pulling away from Leia. “Surely he is with you by now! Tell him to tell me that himself!”

“Rey,” Leia sighed. “You can’t let yourself be haunted by ghosts of what could have been. Speaking to him now, after such a short time, would only drive the wounds in further.”

“I don’t care,” Rey urged, shaking her head. The hatred was back again, raw and inescapable, careening through her body like lightning. “Let me see him. Bring him here. Bring him _back!”_

Leia went silent, the night moon falling through her pale face.

And Rey realized something. _Recognized_ something. The Force would not bend to her, not like this, nor let her perceive the woman’s thoughts—but she had known Leia long enough to tell when something was being hidden.

Something that could be exhumed.

“Is he with you?” she whispered.

Leia’s shoulders fell, her eyes cast once more in their familiar, weary sheen. “No.”

“But…” Rey blinked. “But that's not possible. I _watched_ him vanish. He _must_ be with you and Luke.”

“He's not alive,” Leia admitted with a generous nod, piercing Rey’s concern with her own. “My son is dead. But he is not with us. And… I’m afraid I… I cannot feel him anywhere.”

“But he… he did what was right.” Rey shook her head, touching her stomach, pressing against it, remembering his hand there beneath hers. “He brought me back. He rescued me. So he _must_ be with you!”

“What I say is the truth, Rey. I felt the moment my son lost his life, just as he felt when I lost mine. But he hasn’t come to me yet."

Rey stepped back, warily scanning Leia's face. This... It wasn't right. There was nothing in the texts claiming a soul in the Light would simply... vanish completely. Not unless they chose to. And even then, one as powerful as Ben could manifest with as much ease as Luke Skywalker himself.

_No. No, he would have fought. He always fought._

"Rey," Leia said, interrupting her spiraling thoughts. "Whether he is somewhere else, or nowhere at all…” She took a step forward, and with gentleness and daring, leveled a finger above Rey’s heart. Her voice softened. “…I am willing to let him live _here._ Are you?”

Rey stared at her, speechless. And, in a gust of wind, before she could find an answer, Leia vanished from sight, leaving her alone beneath the stars.

She panted with the thundering race of her heart and felt as the sand shifted, tapping something small and hard against her boot.

Bending down, Rey cradled the shrapnel in her palms, and turned thoughtfully to the marks on the wall. The new marks for the new family that left her, but will not leave.

For all her life, Rey had hoped to find something more. She didn’t need to feel important, nor did she need to bear some grand responsibility. But blood had cursed her. Blood and lineage and tradition had cursed them both. And when things were finally over, when all the dust had settled, the rust scraped away, curses lifted and hope rekindled, they’d lost that, too.

Was nothing in her life going to allow for more; for either of them?

Had they truly been damned, from the moment they were born, to know nothing of freedom, of hope, of _happiness?_ Had they always been meant to become _nothing?_

“I’m not,” she answered into the darkness, wondering if Leia—if he—could hear. “I’m not giving up. I’m not letting it end like this.”

With a blaze in her core she trudged to the wall and thrusted the blade of the scrap deep into the steel, her grip firm, her knuckles white as the marks blurred into the warmth of a fire, the touch of a hand, of her name on his lips, and his on hers.

“I’ll bring you back, Ben.” she promised lowly as shadows fell over her, purpose, _hope,_ igniting in her chest, burning over the empty graves of his ancestors. “I’ll make things right.”


	2. A Lingering Spirit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From the vast energy of the Force, a lost soul is awakened by the voice of the woman he loved.

_“Tell it again, Dad.”_

_“Again?” Han groaned, hoisting his son onto his lap. “I don’t know, it’s been a long day. How many credits you got on you?”_

_Large eyes looked up at him. “Just one more time. Please?”_

_“Alright, alright, but only because you said ‘please.’ More than your mother ever says…” he grumbled. “The one about the smuggler or the hero?”_

_“Hero,” he said, bouncing once._

_“That’s what I thought. So, once upon a time, there was this, pilot—”_

_“—a bad, mean pilot—”_

_“No, not bad. Sure he got into his fair share of trouble, but he was actually pretty cool. Was a great flyer, rich, not bad with the ladies…”_

_His eyes glittered. “And then what happened?”_

_“Well you know what happened,” Han said, laughing at the boy’s relentless enthusiasm. “He went on many deadly, dangerous missions, saw all the wonders of the galaxy, and got to rescue a princess.”_

_“Was she pretty?”_

_“The prettiest,” Han smirked, his gaze drifting someplace far away, “with more fire than a white-dwarf star. Good heart, too. She was the first woman he truly loved more than anything else.”_

_He smiled to himself, nodding. “And he was happy.”_

_He didn’t realize what it meant, then, when Han’s gaze averted to the window, the lights twinkling beyond in their monotonous blaze. The silence stretched thin, until Han murmured, “Yeah. He was happy.”_

_“I like that one.”_

_“Because of the pilot?” Han jibbed._

_“No.” He looked up then with a heaviness, an intensity no young boy should have, daring his father to deny the truth he held close. “Because it has a happy ending.”_

**___**

Death was quick.

Slowly, then suddenly. For one moment she was dead in his arms—all hope, all light, everything… the one thing he wanted most had been taken from him. Her life. Her hand. Her heart… _gone._

The choice was easy. But, giving life was something he never thought he could do. For so long, all he’d done was _take._ But for her, he would have given it all. _Had_ given it all. All he had left.

The next moment she was smiling at him; just as he’d always dreamed of since the second he knew what they would become. She saw him. _Wanted_ him, when no one else could.

And that was it.

That was all.

**___**

He felt different.

Strange.

_Liberated._

What he became in those final moments followed him. The Light of it, the rightness. The feeling of being without the mask, without anything between what he was and would never be.

But something was missing. He was within everything. His mind stretched out beyond the farthest reaches, but his soul… it did not follow. The Force showed him everything, an eternity of life, of cycles born and extinguished beyond even Light and Dark. He was the stars, he was every moon, his breath was soft wind and thunderstorms, ripping their fading scars across the sky.

But it wasn’t enough. Something… _fettered_ him. Memories that would coalesce in and out of time. Fragments, images. Dreams. Stories of an evil man who saved an empress, but had no happy ending. Her eyes in the firelight, his name a whisper from her lips, her hands on his face, holding him close when others had once thrown him away.

_Ben._

There was no heart left in him. Only grey matter, emptiness. The other half of his soul would remain out of reach, forever.

_Ben…_

That was reality. That was the truth. Why ask for a happy ending when you should be glad you got one at all?

_Be with me…_

His eyes opened. A pulse, strong and unsteady, surrounded him. A living heart, not his own. Her voice. _Her voice…_

_Rey…_

_Be with me…_

It pulsed in his empty chasm of what once was, a voice calling, summoning, promising something more than darkness. Something he never thought he would know. A great moan shuddered through him, a defiance that shook from deep within the stars, calling back to her.

_Rey… I want… I want…_

_Be with me… Please… Be with me…_

_Rey… I…_

_Be with me…_

The sound of her voice fell away from him, and the pressure caved upon his unburdened mind, forcing him deep into uncharted darkness after it.

_Rey……………_


	3. After Exegol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A call to the past - what Rey did between the siege of Exegol and the final scene of _The Rise of Skywalker_

“Ben.”

He pulled her closer as she searched his face, watching as every inch of him softened, the vision of Ben Solo finally, at long last, before her very eyes. She touched his cheek with barest fingertips, testing to see if it was true, and he smiled at her, tears welling between his flickering lashes.

For so long she’d waited—for so long, since that night when they found each other across the stars, touched and saw futures left untapped, she dreamed of seeing this face. Free from scars, from pain and darkness, looking on her in a way no one ever had. Understanding.

_Wanting._

Her eyes fell to his mouth, and before she could let herself run away, she ran to him instead, taking his face in her hands to hold him still as she rushed against his lips. His hand on her neck flexed, his arm pulling her close as she felt their surrender intertwine, the warmth of him filling her as she lingered, tasting for the first time the sweet pulse of being kissed.

It was more simple, and somehow more filling, than she’d ever thought a kiss could be, leaving her in bliss and equal need when they parted. His eyes remained closed, almost sleepily, as he smiled, her name a ricochet in his mind, echoing into her. Her heart overflowed with joy as she touched his cheek—only to still when it went cold.

His smile fell and his body became heavy, and Rey scrambled for him, following him down as he collapsed onto the cave floor.

Speech fled from her, distress tight in her throat as she reached for him, only to meet emptiness as his very body found release. Peace and purpose clawed through her spirit as something gouged her deeper than she could ever see, ever touch—as if the very core of her had been extinguished.

The clothing he wore sank emptily onto the stone, and her hand fell over where his chest once was. “No…” she murmured, trembling. “Wait…”

The ground rumbled beneath her and she looked up, watching as the cavern began to crumble from beneath the rich, violet sky. She could feel the planet beginning to die, all the energy from Palpatine’s malice draining from the ancient tomb, leaving only ruin.

Forcing herself to her knees, Rey wrinkled his clothes into her clammy grasp, clutching it close as she looked around, searching for the sabers. Seeing one glint in the dark, she reached out, calling it to her—but it did not obey.

Rock and granite snapped beneath the throne and she knew she couldn’t stay still. Grunting to her feet, she ran to Leia’s saber, then Luke’s, wrapping them soundly in the black fabric as she raced for the slivery exit. She extended her mind as far as she could, searching for Finn. For Poe. For anyone.

Nothing called back to her.

She made it to the barren plane and paused at the sight of his ship beside hers before ducking her head, climbing into Luke’s X-Wing fighter. A mighty groan arose from beyond and a mass of what appeared to be smoke, or rock, blinked into the air and out of existence, leaving an implosion gouged in the earth behind it that swelled toward her like ocean waves before going still and grey, bleeding.

She couldn’t stay. Her wrists went numb and she trembled as she fastened herself in, firing up the thrusters and gathering the cloth to her, keeping it close.

It was still warm.

**___**

The numbness engulfed her before she climbed out of the ship.

She left the belongings behind, her feet carrying her only to what could offer her solace now. And her friends, her dearest friends, saw her there. Tears streamed down her face as she pulled them in, every exhale only digging further the growing pit of emptiness within her.

**___**

She held the lightsaber in her hand, passing it across her fingers. She thought of all she’d done with this sword since the day she found it in the castle of Maz Kanata, this heirloom to a family that wasn’t her own. This weapon of hope, meant to be used by a dead man.

_A dead man._

She swallowed thickly. As she did, the slight curtain parted, revealing a concerned Finn. She couldn’t smile for him, too hollow, too uncertain.

He sat on the cot an arm’s length from her crossed legs, folding his fingers and hunching down. “You gonna tell me what happened back there?”

Rey searched his eyes, the saber cold in her palms, before she couldn’t anymore, staring down and pushing the memory away. “No,” she whispered.

Finn frowned, and in the faint power of the Force around him, Rey sensed a swell of emotion overflowing before he reached out to touch her. “Rey—”

“Don’t,” she said, staring dejectedly at his hand. As he withdrew, hurt, she closed her eyes, clinging to the sword in her hands. The only solid remnant, the only thing familiar, she could bear to hold onto. “I… I know what you were going to say, now. Back then.”

He shifted, staring at her intently. She felt tainted hope sink and flutter in his heart, only filling her own with vitriol for the truth that dwelt outside of his longing.

The sound of nature echoed beyond the shaded den, the waterfall outside the window tracing light over the cold tear that lingered on her cheek. “I can’t give that to you. Everything I am was tied to him. Even if I could feel that way for you, Finn…” she shook her head. “It wouldn’t be real.”

It was true—to return the longing he felt just wasn’t inside of her. Not that way. As she spoke, he seemed to realize that, too. To accept it. Even if she could force the broken threads of her heart to fuse with his, it would only be another lie to tell herself while she waited for something more. That wouldn’t be fair to him.

She cared for him too much to curse him, and yet, it was nothing like what she felt for Ben, and look where that had gotten them.

“I could've told you that,” Finn murmured, offering her a rueful smile. Rey scoffed, the two of them offering that mourning laughter—the quiet, still sound of banished dreams. The silence stretched on as he gazed pensively at her hands, his voice as dry as it was thick. “Did you love him?”

Rey sniffled, smiling as she nodded, her throat beginning to close. “I still do.”

**___**

“Rey!”

Rey turned from her work on fixing Luke’s X-Wing. It was an older model, a classic. It was easier to keep her hands moving, her thoughts preoccupied. It was almost finished. She didn’t know where she would go, but she had an idea.

Maz Kanata shambled over, waving an arm over her head. “Rey! One moment!”

“Maz,” Rey welcomed, wiping the grease from her hands as the elder woman panted softly with excitement, her little eyes wide with bright promise.

She held her small hand aloft, a cloth wadded within it. “We found this beneath General Leia’s veil. Take it. I believe she left it for you.”

Rey, curious, held out her hand and took the piece. It was small, of decent weight, and a trickle of Force signature leaked from within. Surprise and desire gushed hot under her worn and ruddy cheeks when she pulled it apart to find a cracked, scarlet stone.

“A kyber crystal…” she murmured, recognizing the sensation.

_Ben._

“We found it in the place of her body,” Maz explained, pointing at it. “It looks like the general hasn’t finished with you yet.”

Rey, still staring at the crystal, blinked back into focus. She looked at Maz and nodded, her eyes distant, mind racing. “Thank you, Maz,” she said, skirting past her and stalking quickly back towards her corner of the base.

She reached for one of the texts in her bungalow, thrumming though it once before finding the page she required. Snatching her staff and the other Jedi weapons, she began stuffing them, and food, into a pack.

“Rey? What’s going on?”

Rey looked up into the confused face of Rose Tico, continuing to shove food and water-packets into her rucksack. “I have to go somewhere. I may not be back for a while.”

 _“Go_ somewhere? But, The Resistance… Poe might need you—”

“And if he does, give him this,” Rey replied, slinging the bag over her shoulder and offering a comm device to Rose. She paused. “And take care of Finn for me? I know you understand him better than anyone.”

Rose offered Rey a warm look and a soft smile, clutching the comm to her chest. “Yes, ma’am.”

Rey smiled back as best she could, laying a hand on the woman’s shoulder. “When I come back, let’s get something to eat. I’m still sort of new to this galaxy and could use someone who knows my tastes.”

Rose chuckled and pulled Rey into a quick embrace, patting her back. “I’ll remember to make a list. Just be careful out there, okay?”

“Okay,” Rey said, trying to withhold the pain with a smirk.

Rose held up the comm and left. When she did, Rey glanced under her bed and crouched, pulling out the folded black clothes from their secured leather wraps. Her thumb brushed over the hole in the fabric.

She tried not to think about why she brought it with her.

**___**

She left the _Falcon_ with Chewbacca. It was better that way—though she could only pray Poe… General Dameron… wouldn’t destroy it in some new scheme. But of course, when she tried to take Luke’s X-Wing fighter, BB-8 caught her and wouldn’t let go.

Now, hurtling towards the Unknown Regions, BB-8 warbled a low question.

“There’s something I need to see,” she replied, withdrawing the crystal from the pack around her belt.

It glowed softly, dimming now and then, its flicker like a heartbeat in her palm that only grew stronger as they reached a field of asteroids and debris.

Recognizing the coordinates, BB-8 startled, chirping at a hunk of durasteel as it floated harmlessly by his head-plate, revealing a burning sun behind it.

Rey closed her eyes and leaned back in her seat, clutching the crystal tightly, squeezing almost hard enough to break the stone as torment filed her with its ghastly truth. 

_The Ilum system, the planet Ilum… had been Starkiller Base._

BB-8, who, truly, had been her first friend, spun his head, glancing down at her, and asked why they’d come. What she saw.

“The books… from Ahch-To,” she opened her eyes, staring at the sun that had taken the place of Starkiller Base, destroying almost everything. “They said that the Jedi could find kyber crystals here, on Ilum. Or where it used to be.”

It had probably been what fascinated her most about the texts—learning the ancient history of the Jedi, their rules and structures. Like reading the lives of all the Jedi who came before. She’d hoped that, someday, when everything was finished, she could travel to Ilum herself and find the crystal meant for her. That, someday, her name could be written alongside theirs.

A pang cried out in her heart as she steered the ship away from the wreckage, knowing that dream, like so many others, would never come to pass.

**___**

A distress call rang through her radar as she’d traveled, and she couldn’t help but respond. It was from a small moon near Coruscant—a barren moon planet called Centax-2, where Republic sympathizers had been targeted by lingering First Order partisans. The sight of Leia’s ignited saber had frightened most into fleeing, but the others suffered from the ricochet of their own blasters.

She couldn’t help but wonder if the saber she’d used would have mattered at all.

**___**

Rey didn’t leave after that.

The humans she’d helped, who knew she was Jedi, led her to the Arkanian settlement across the rocky plateaus. Their white hair and eyes startled her into a memory of pure darkness and flashes of lightning, of a black mouth of rot crying out her name and his. But they didn’t bother her, only offered a hut to squat and pit to light and cook her meals.

She was staring into the dark, shimmering air above the fire, turning the saber over in her hand like the thoughts in her mind, when it happened.

The kyber crystal she’d taken began to glow again, but did not dim. It grew brighter and brighter, burning her hand when she touched it, the crack shrieking.

At her touch the light petered, and through its brightness she saw the deep scarlet begin to morph and change. It faded into nothingness, the red bleeding ink into her fingers before vanishing, leaving the crystal gold—the crack healed into a vein.

A scar.

Her heart hammered as she stared at every facet of the crystal, marveling as the Force twined around her wrists, calling her to it. Tears welled in her eyes as she brought the warm stone to her lips. Ben’s crystal had _found_ her. The Force had not abandoned her.

Rising to her feet, Rey snatched her staff from its slouch against the wall and unfastened the uppermost segment, the feeling of her past in one hand, and her future in the other, offering the first hint of peace she’d felt the day her hope died with him.

Maybe, somehow, this piece of him could stay with her forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [It was discovered in _The Fallen Order_ that Starkiller Base was actually once the planet Ilum, a snowy, uninhabitable planet that had been taken over by the First Order and mined for its crystals, ala _Rogue One_. Ilum had been a location where, as Rey explains, padawans had to go find their sabers to truly become Jedi]
> 
> [Kyber crystals, being a connection to the Force, themselves take on the color of their masters, and have different meanings. Ben Solo's original saber was blue (combat, protecting self and others, and rooting out evil) before becoming red (falling to the Dark Side), and now—as we see with Rey's saber blade at the end of TRoS—yellow/gold (destroying the darkness, operating in secrecy, and being an ultimate Light Side user. So Rey gets his crystal because Ilum was blown up in Episode VII and I guess JJ forgot 🙃).]
> 
> [The Arkanians and Centax-2 are real places. The dispute likely happened because, canonically, Coruscant was sided with the FO]


	4. A Voice in the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At last Rey breaks through the Force and catches the first whiff of a solution to this mystery...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slowly recovering and now in that stage of grief where I am perpetually angry at Disney but also firmly a believer that Ben isn't really _gone_ gone. But anyway, comments and kudos are a great boost of self-esteem and encouragement. Thank you for taking a moment to support and, of course, for reading! 
> 
> (Also there is an intentional change in tense as the story has now passed the exposition phase. But creativity bears no explanation)

_Be with me…_

Her thoughts whisper across the sands of Tatooine, the buried home of a legend, the charred bones lost beneath, reaching out into the night.

Cold swipes down her arms, frost descended from stars crystalizing on her finer hairs. As she breathes the steam curls over her nose, caressing her cheeks, as light as a touch—consuming as a kiss.

Her body goes numb as hours careen into mindless moments, the warmth of the desert rapidly sapped by darkness as her want dives headlong into _need_ as she searches for him.

Weeks have passed since that night when Leia approached her, told her that Ben Solo had not yet become one with the Force. Before that, only a month had fallen since he’d disappeared, and the kyber crystal had found her. Had become _theirs._

She should have known then that he wasn’t truly gone; that the hole in her heart was not so gaping nor endless nor devoid. And now, even as she loses feeling in her fingers and toes, lungs shuddering with every breath, she can feel _something._ Something deeper, farther than the Force would let her see.

_Pull back the curtain, Rey._

Her crystal lashes flutter, her breathing shortened as a dark voice calls from inside of her. It rasps, rough from disuse, but she can hear it, can almost touch it, and lets its sound fall through her, pulling her down into the black.

An image comes to her—ocean waves, calm and rippling, the stars reflected from the horizon, nearly blending into one, dizzying galaxy.

A ripple fans across the water. _Follow it, Rey._

“Follow what?” she whispers, stepping forward, her feet bare and ghostly as she follows the sound. Waves tumble from the soles of her feet, spreading ever outward.

_Follow it…_

“Who are you?” she calls, her voice trapped in her throat. Her ears swell and ring, thick, as though struck near a powerful blast. Looking down, she sees that the ripples from her footsteps have ricocheted, bouncing back, becoming a mess of webs.

And when she looks up, he is there.

His body stands slouched, but upright, so dark and lifeless, without light, that he exists as a mere shadow in the empty space, blocking out the stars. Tears gather in Rey’s eyes as she reaches out a hand, the transparent, pale energy of her flesh phasing through him.

_What’s inside of you._

“Inside me?” Rey waves a hand over the shadow, stopping over his cheek. The soft light shines over him—his eyes closed, frown gentle and still, as if asleep. Love swells within her to see him again, if only in a vision. “I don’t understand.”

 _Go to Arath,_ the voice rasps, its urgency quaking the water around her, casting shadows over his face. _You will find your answers on Arath…_

As it fades, Rey tenses, trying to touch his cheek, to keep him with her. “Wait—!”

Cold sinks its claws into her calves, crawling through her middle, and before she can scream the water breaks beneath her, forcing her down into the still waters. She thrashes, reaching for the shadow of him as the light within her flickers, beginning to dim.

_You’re close now, Rey… the future of the Force rests with you._

Rey opens her mouth to call his name, the last of the air in her lungs pulled to the surface, becoming stars.

It’s then that she awakes in the sand to BB-8’s terrified shrieks, his attachments sunk deep into the fabric of her clothes as he drags her towards the hut.

“Oi!” she cries, interrupting his astromechtic rant. Even without the feeling in her hands, she manages to throw her arms back, tangling in his chords. “I was getting somewhere!”

BB-8 whirs, chittering and unsheathing his electro-tazer, giving it a good zap.

Rey huffs, shambling to her knees. “Oh, shut it.” Brushing sand from her nose, she rises to her feet, patting the dirt from her clothes. “And pack up your things. We’re leaving.”

BB-8 cocks his head-plate, beeping once.

“Arath,” she replies, a firm, hopeful set to her lips. “No more sitting still. It’s time I found some real answers, for once. No more riddles, no more games,” she murmurs, remembering the dark voice in her mind, so soft, almost fragile, yet so true—so compelling.

Whatever it was, wherever the voice will lead, she knows it will bring her back to Ben.

And that’s all that matters.

A determined glint shines in her eyes through the darkness as she clenches the fist that hovered over his cheek by her side, resolved not to let it go empty any longer.


	5. Favor from a Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey goes to Cloud City in search of intel that could lead her to Arath...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for taking the time to share your thoughts. You're so kind and ily. <3

The only problem with finding Arath seems to be that no one has ever heard of it.

This problem, of course, deters Rey as much as a day of poor salvage used to—disheartening until the next sunrise. But she keeps going, searching, clinging to the vision of pale light scattered over his cheek.

 _He’s alive,_ Rey tells herself. _Somewhere, he’s still alive._

She hopes it’s more than delusion that guides her steps as she marches through the sunny streets of Cloud City, her eyes roving through the bright, bustling metropolis. A few Bespin people glance her way, looking curiously upon her clothes—and she stares back, brimming with fascination at the sizes and shapes of them all.

When she began her training, the texts commanded that she isolate herself. Set herself apart from others, as to live beyond them. To live beyond was to live to serve—the Light, and what the Light protects.

If only she’d known how much it would wound her.

Rey passes through security into the innermost level of the city, BB-8 at her heels. He warbles excitedly.

“Yeah, I hope so too,” she sighs, nodding politely to a guard as he leads her to an impressive set of sliding blast doors. They sheathe themselves into the wall at the pass of a keycard, and beyond a man in gallant attire turns, a bright smile etched upon his face.

“Ah! Rey!” Lando Calrissian cheers, setting aside his drink to rub excited palms together. He ventures a bit too close, fresh smile tinged with bitter fruit on his breath. “So glad you’ve come.”

Rey smiles. “Thank you for agreeing to see me. I’m sorry it was so short-notice.”

“Not at all, not at all,” Lando dismisses with a wave of his hand. “Always a pleasure to, uh, _assist_ the good guys, as it were. Come, have a seat. I’m sure you’re hungry.”

For the first time since entering, Rey allows herself a gluttonous view of the banquet table. “Starving, actually,” she says, sliding shamelessly into the nearest seat. The first bite of euan-pork is already past her lips when she remembers her manners. “Thank you.”

Lando sits, watching her with steepled fingers and a patient smile. “So… I doubt you’ve come to shoot the bantha-sh—”

She glances at him, mouth full.

 _“—droppings,_ with an old man.” He cocks his head, dark gaze glittering in the sparkling daylight. “How can I help you, Rey?”

Rey swallows, leaning back in her seat, glancing hopefully between his eyes. “I’m looking for a planet called Arath,” she murmurs, toying with the fingers in her lap. “I was hoping you’d heard of it?”

Lando mirrors her, breathing out as he glances thoughtfully about the room, as if searching for answers in the walls. After a moment, he shakes his head. “Can’t say I have.”

Crestfallen, Rey holds her fingers still. “And your databases?”

“Aren’t as thorough as they could be,” he sighs, rising with a groan. “The First Order had the only access to the best maps of the galaxy, and those were destroyed along with them.”

 _Like Ilum,_ Rey mourns, folding her lips.

Lando offers her a sad smile. “How about this? I’ll send my best to find any information we can. Until then… Jannah?”

The blast doors open and Rey rises, offering a polite nod to the woman striding into the room like she owns it, a smaller cowl—the same shade as Lando’s—draped regally over her neck.

Jannah stops, a pert smile blooming between her cheeks, smarting with friendly wit and challenge. (Rey had liked her from the start—how like Finn this once-stormtrooper woman was, and yet with so much fire!). “Jedi. Nice to finally see you around again.”

“I’ve been busy,” Rey replies, matching Jannah’s air and gesturing to the droid at her side. “BB-8 and I have been searching for a planet. Arath.”

“’Arath?’” Jannah echoes, fisting her hips. “Never heard of it.”

“You had access to First Order data, didn’t you?” Lando pipes, plucking a bite-sized fruit from the spread. “No raids or anything?”

Jannah shakes her head. “No. At least, not while I was with them.” She glances at Rey, and within her look, Rey feels the pinch of guilt sting behind her neck, knowing that all along… _she_ had been the reason why this woman had been enslaved by the First Order. By the emperor.

Rey looks away.

“Maybe it’s not a planet at all,” Lando muses aloud. “Could be a moon, or even a settlement. The galaxy is a big place, but hey, I’m sure we’ll find it.” He claps a hand upon Rey’s shoulder and shakes, breaking her from her trance. “We’ll conduct a search through our records and see what we can dig up. You’re welcome to stay until then.”

She smiles, nodding once and offering her thanks. It’s then that Jannah waves her on, escorting her down the narrow halls of the city’s heart.

“So, is it Jedi stuff you’re searching for, then?” Jannah asks over her shoulder.

Rey’s hold on her rucksack tightens. “Sort of.”

Jannah scoffs. “Legendary, you are.” She tosses Rey a rueful smile that Rey offers right back, though with less esteem. “It’s a good thing you did, killing that Emperor once and for all.”

“I didn’t do it alone,” Rey murmurs as they reach her temporary suite. The opulence of the chamber stuns her for a moment as she drops her belongings, eyes bulging as she takes in the cream walls and plush furnishings.

“Bedroom’s over there, ‘fresher’s over there,” Jannah points. “You may want to use that first. You stink.”

Rey only smiles, yearning for the privacy of an _actual_ ‘fresher. Doing her business in the desert was not something she had missed. “Thank you."

Jannah looks at her thoughtfully for a moment, and through the thin thread of Force Rey has left, she senses something rise within her, but immediately fall. Instead, as the woman backs away, her voice sobers, her countenance serious, if not pitiful. “I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

With that, Rey is left alone with BB-8, who rolls circles around the furniture, warbling a mournful coo that he cannot find a way onto it without damaging the ceiling. She chuckles at him, finding an operating panel to draw him an oil bath before trekking into the ‘fresher, scrubbing the dirt and sand from her skin.

When she enters the bedchamber the room has already cast itself in soft scarlet and rust. A sleeping robe lies spread before her and she smooths a hand over the tender silk, and abandons it, reaching for her rucksack.

Sitting on the bed, hair damp on her shoulders, she pulls out a wad of wrinkled, black cloth. Her thumb finds the puncture hole immediately and she sighs, falling back into the downy sheets, the bed too large, too soft, too barren, to offer any real comfort to her.

She clings to the shirt as BB-8 watches, wishing she were brave enough to wear it.


	6. Arath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The obvious happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!!

He senses her.

Beyond time, beyond sight, or reach… but not touch. Not _feeling._

_Rey._

Somewhere, around him, _within him,_ she is there. Waiting. Always _waiting._

 _Don’t wait for me…_ mutters a great whine from the depths of him, breathing in galaxies, shuddering out whispers. _Don’t wait for me…_

But she will. Fire inflames with retribution for his unspoken words, licking its tendrils over the nothingness of him—a reprimand from the truth of her. That she is too powerful, now, to be stopped in her will. That she will do what her tireless hope demands of her.

That is when a voice comes to him. Surfaces from the depths.

_She is coming for you._

Light lances through him, wraps and coils over something like a spine, and he twitches with the power of it—the pain of _being,_ and becoming. _No,_ he wishes he could say. _No…_

The voice softens, fading. _She is coming… and the two… will become one…_

As it goes the cold and nothing suffuses him, saturates to the bone, leaving him hollow, filled with something else. It flutters tenderly within him, a flight of heartbeats and whispers in the palm of his hand. Warmth, trapped in chains.

“Rey…” he groans, shadowy fingers twitching, clutching the wisps of heat from behind a covered gaze. He hopes, allows himself—whatever he is—to hope that she can hear him. “…don’t wait for me…”

_Don’t wait for me…_

**\---**

She leans against the bay window of the suite, her eyes cast along the sea of clouds. Ships breech lazily from the sugary glaze of cream and morning-rose tufts, streams of vapors curling vines along the horizon line of Bespin, and she watches, mind adrift with them.

When the blast doors open she rights herself in time to meet the eyes of Lando Calrissian. “You’re awake.” He smiles, waving her to join him. “C’mon. You’re going to like this. Probably.”

Hope blooms anew at the hollow of her throat as she follows him back into the halls of Cloud City’s center, into a tactic’s center where Jannah and a few other officers stand at attention.

“We couldn’t locate any planets named ‘Arath,’” Lando shares with a wave of his hand, “but our research team found a gaseous compound no bigger than a moon called Arathie by the locals.”

“And,” Jannah adds, laying finger on a switch, “this.”

At her depression, soft trills fill the room, a pitch of whispers scraping across the floor, burrowing into Rey’s ears.

_Rey…_

Her own name echoes in her mind from the sound of the transmission and she steps toward it, her eyes wide. The voice… dark and soft… was the voice she’d heard in her vision.

When the transmission ends, Jannah and Lando study Rey. Lando folds his lips. “We picked it up a few days ago. Just senseless noise, originating from the Unknown Regions. Mysterious enough to share with a Jedi, don’t you think?”

“That must be it,” Rey says, nodding to herself before meeting their eyes. “I’m sure of it. Where are the coordinates?”

Jannah smirks. “Already logged into your flight-map.”

**___**

She follows the trace of the signal into barely-charted space, losing herself to the mechanics of flight and evading debris until BB-8 chitters after her.

“Sorry,” she calls back, easing off the throttle. Lightspeed is a guaranteed ticket to crashing in terrain like this, but the last thing Rey can think to do now is waste time. They’ve already been traveling for hours and have only just begun a thorough search.

Soon enough, they reach the end of the line—with no planet in sight. Only the gaseous sub-terrain of nebula surrounding them. The remnants of a long-dead star.

“Okay,” Rey sighs, leaning back and slipping her eyes closed. Making herself comfortable—even though her rump screams from sitting so long—she pulls into the familiar meditative state, calling to the light inside of her, and waits.

Nothing comes, at first. For too long she remains, breathing in, exhaling the last morsels of her, and sinking within the sightless mass of threading with the Force.

And then it comes. Not voices, this time, not even whispers, but a pulsing energy. Soft and…

… _weak?_

Rey opens her eyes, steering the ship into the deepest depths of the nebula cloud, where the transparency becomes null and sight nearly impossible. But the Force is only the Force—no matter how little of it Rey can feel, she will never neglect her piloting skills.

As soon as the mass emerges from the smog, BB-8 trills, warbling fervently.

“I see it!” Rey calls back, a wide grin breaking on her face as they break through the exosphere, then the thermosphere, where the violets and pale greys swirl into bright blues and whites. She checks the readings—warm, breathable.

Before landing, she flies over the majority of the land, continuing to study the landscape and resources. But as they get closer, the radars fizzle and pop and become static. Rey groans, smacking the dashboard.

BB-8 sighs.

“Something is jamming the sensors,” she swallows, taking the controls with firm hands. “We’re landing blind.”

BB-8 knows that, when Rey says ‘blind,’ she doesn’t mean that she won’t be able to land this ship. Because, after being with Rey for this long, BB-8 knows that, when Rey says ‘blind,’ she means she won’t know what will be there when they _do._

When they touch down, Rey and BB-8 look around from the safety of the ship before Rey pops the top, easing out onto rich, amber soil. It goes soft under her boots as she looks around, surveying the flat landscape and small mounds leaking steam into the air.

The world is so flat here, it may as well be a desert—save for the mountain an hour’s walk straight ahead. Rey stops and stares at the crooked shadows of the mountain, soaking in the familiar sense of intuition that likes to gnaw at her gut. Or, maybe she’s just hungry and could use a place that might have fruit trees and water. Either or.

Deciding not to bother flying the ship close to a potentially dangerous locale, she marches onward. “C’mon, BB-8.”

The little droid trails obediently after her, looking around and offering the occasional ‘woo.’

“There must be a source underground,” Rey notes, pointing to the steam. As she does, a mound bursts as a geyser of—what she hopes to be—water sprays into the air, making her jump. As they go on, the soil so soft and pliant to her every step, she wonders why life _wouldn’t_ be growing in this place. Why, of all places, would the Force call her to a planet like this?

As they draw near to the base of the mountain, she hopes she will finally be allowed to find out.

She clenches her fist, speeding her every step. _I’m coming, Ben._


	7. On the Mountain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey ventures up the mountain of Arath in search of answers, but is met with a deadly threat...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to anyone who is reading and following along! Hope you're doing okay. <3

The winds here are quiet and soft. The shadow of the mountain passes over them as the sun drifts behind its jagged, toothy peaks, and Rey lands her fists on her hips, glaring up into the hairline fracture of waning daylight.

“Think you could climb that?” she asks, jutting a chin to BB-8.

At her question he opens a hatch in his little body and three grappling hooks flop out, landing in the soil, and looks up at her.

Rey grins. “Great. Let’s get started.”

The mountainside is fairly steep—as treacherous as a crumbling star destroyer, if not for its helpful array of outcroppings. BB-8 uses his wits, lashing one hook to gouge into the arching precipice before rolling to its destination, and simply repeating. Rey almost can’t keep up.

The once-gentle winds pick up the higher they go, nipping cold at the tip of her nose and chapping lips. The black stone and strange soil run loose and dry under her fingers, like ashes and sand, before it all eventually gives way to flat plateaus almost as barren as the landscape beneath, if not more so.

With no other sense of direction besides _forward,_ Rey and BB-8 walk through the dry soil, passing through a sparse forest of, what she assumes to be, dead trees. This is only until she reaches up to touch one and the black char snaps off, crumbling to dust and soot between her fingers.

“Something happened here,” she murmurs, looking around. No trace of Force energy sings to her in this place, the emptiness, the _wrongness_ sinking like bile in the back of her throat.

BB-8 shifts closer to her, nudging her calf.

Not wanting to subject him to any of her brooding, Rey snaps out of her short trip into paranoia and nods, wiping the smut onto her trousers. “You’re right. We should keep going.”

The droid whirs thoughtfully, staring at her for a moment, before rolling on past her, leaving behind a small wake of displaced sand and dirt.

And then the ground shakes.

BB-8 cries in alarm as large swell gathers underground, slithering towards them in a spray of dust and ashes. Rey stands in front of him, driving him away, when a scaly hide breeches from the silt, then another, then another.

Rey holds out her hand, attempting to ease her breathing as the creatures rise to a formidable height, their flat faces and pronged mandibles clicking and snapping, drool oozing silver onto the forest floor.

“We don’t want to fight,” she whispers with a wave of her splayed hand, trying to draw the scattered power of the Force to her, hoping it will be enough to make them see. She lowers her body, making it small, but as the creatures continue to loom and circle, her fingers itch for her saber. “Just let us pass. Please.”

Whatever they are, they don’t understand. Or are simply too hungry to care. Either way, the largest one lunges, its long, ridged neck coiling to spread mandibles and reveal a throat of pure flesh and cilialic teeth, aimed for her head.

On instinct, Rey dives between its legs, tumbling through the dry earth before pushing forward with pounding steps. Of course, being warm and chewy, she is immediately targeted by the creatures, who leave BB-8 behind to his frantic cries.

She doesn’t want to kill them. Even without the Force’s input, she knows how it feels to be lost and hungry. Deciding to take a chance, she throws her arm behind her, trying to push the closest one away.

But nothing happens.

She growls, passing through a cluster of black trees and the creatures weave around them, falling into a formation, hunting her. Loose strands of her hair sting her eyes as she watches them, heart pounding too fast to feel. The one on the rear begins to close in, nipping at her heels.

Her lungs burn, hollowing into the base of her throat as she begins to pant, and she curses herself by reaching for her lightsaber, igniting it.

For as much empathy, as much yearning, she might feel—she isn’t finished yet.

With a nervous cry, Rey passes close to a tree and strikes it, imploding the weak substance into a cloud of black smoke. The creature chitters and groans, slowing, spurring her on as victory's cold adrenaline pumps through her veins. She chops down every tree in sight, bursting them into a roiling cloud of ink.

It surrounds her on all sides and she goes still, trying to stifle her breathing as she clutches onto her saber, its golden glow flickering sparks and heat against her cheek. The chittering, snapping sounds get closer and closer and Rey keeps her head spinning, her hackles raised, eyes wide and burning.

Just when she thinks one of them is going to find her and strike, the low growls become a pitched whine, the sound of static shivering, the cracking ground and piercing cries of pain splintering through the air. It concentrates on one end and, seizing her chance, Rey runs blindly into it, hoping that, whatever has happened, it will be distraction enough to slip past.

It works for about ten seconds before the forest floor gives way beneath her.

The lightsaber flies from her hand as Rey careens down another steep slope. In the blur of her surroundings and the agony blooming on nearly every cell of her body as she rolls, tucking into herself, she wonders if she’s brilliantly managed to fall off the other side of the mountain.

When she finally lands she groans, rolling onto her back and squinting at the sky. “Ow.”

Rey gazes along the steppe from which she fell, blinking, and realizes that it looks much less sharp and rocky than it felt. As she sits up, scoffing at the ridiculous pop in her spine, she realizes that she is not alone.

A silhouette takes shape from a wall of steam, a tall figure stepping out. Its white skin shimmers in the slight sunlight, a wide face and owlish ebony eyes peering down at her.

Gulping dry air, Rey scrambles back. She fumbles over her lightsaber and forces herself to stand, dirt cascading from her body as she ignites the blade. “Stay back! I am _not_ in the mood!”

The figure stops, blinking owlishly at her with a cock of its head.

And that’s when Rey notices that, whatever this life form is, it’s wearing _clothing._

It steps closer, eyes focused on the blade, and holds out a hand of webbed fingers. A pointed muzzle of a mouth, soft and dotted with small scales, splits open to flash a dark inside as it whispers, “Jedi…?”

Hot shame floods Rey and she sheathes her weapon, lowering her head as the reptilian female comes near. She searches her eyes, feeling that faint trace of Force calling to her. “Who are you?”

Something like a smile breaks over her pale face. “Oma,” she says, placing scaly fingers to the layers of tunic over her chest. Slowly, she rests them on Rey’s ribcage, over her heart.

Understanding what she wants, Rey nods. “Rey. My name is Rey.”

“Rey…” Oma murmurs, the glazed film of her eyes blinking with a soft _click_ in the silence as she scours Rey’s face, intent and almost frighteningly focused. She gently touches Rey’s hair, which had come loose from the fall, then her cheek, tarnished with smut, before taking her wrist and tugging. “Come.”

Rey steps forward, intent to follow this Oma, before she stops, blood running cold. “My droid… I left him back there!”

A long, high whorl chimes from above and both women turn to look, spotting BB-8 on the plateau's edge with bloody smudges on his paint. He opens a panel in his body to flash them with a victorious zap from his electro-tazer.

Oma blinks, pulling Rey away from her relieved smile. “Come, Jedi Rey.”

Rey breathes out, her shoulders sagging as she walks alongside the woman, gratitude and comfort surging through her.

Finally, after years of being alone, it feels like answers are within her grasp.


	8. The Oasis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oma leads Rey into an oasis that may hold the key to resurrecting the other piece of her soul...

They venture deep into the wilderness, the steam swirling around their ankles. Rey keeps her gaze focused, trying to see through the thick fog. The shadows of crags and jutting rocks emerge, too close for comfort, the sight of them swelling in her throat.

Oma walks with sure steps, the silence thick between them as they weave through an unseen path, until the mist dissipates at last.

Rey gapes as the grass cripples under her boot, looking up into the open maw of the crater. Birds squawk and flap from their nests, their scaly wings splitting spray from a gentle waterfall into more fine mist, showering the sparse, lush trees.

Oma waits until Rey stops spinning, waving her closer. “Come.”

She does, jogging to keep up with Oma’s long strides. “You live here?”

“Yes.” Oma turns her head, nearly giving Rey pause as it turns _much_ farther than a human’s head might. “It is called _Oun-ara._ The Heart of Arath.”

“It’s beautiful,” Rey notes blandly, words falling short of the lightness in her chest watching green pods flower into bright blooms as they pass. “I’d thought…”

Oma blinks, turning to face the path again, ducking under hanging vines, thick curtains to a tunnel. “That the whole world was like that place?”

“Well, yes,” Rey murmurs, her eyes pulled to the etchings on the cave wall. As she touches the marks, she realizes they are thick and warm, rugged and dusty with amber soil, like roots of a tree.

“Mm.” Oma reaches down, plucking a small pebble from the ground, before tossing it into the dark, shallow pond. At once the water begins to glow, its soft shine igniting the tunnel and the etchings, casting them in constellations.

Rey stares at them, their scratches blurring, rising within her body, and all at once she is overcome. Her fingers twitch, her senses primed, and the depleted energy draining her simmers and boils.

_Light._

She looks at Oma, ripples of light dancing over her face. “What is this place?”

“An oasis,” Oma says, folding her hands over her middle. Her long tail curls over her legs, resting regally at her feet. “A place for the Force to find rest.”

“’Rest?’” Rey steps forward, trying to read the marks. She touches one, the pulse fluttering under her skin as soft as an infant heartbeat. “I don’t understand. The Force is the energy in everything. Why would it need to rest?”

Oma’s nostrils thin, her lids slipping to a near-close before rolling back in her skull. She coughs, her throat expanding before she opens her black mouth, letting slip a ball of… something… into her palms.

Rey quirks a brow as Oma cracks the thing open, saliva and steam rising from the lump, to reveal a cluster of seeds.

Oma smiles, caressing one of the small pods—and Rey wonders if the female has forgotten she’s there—before she turns, walking through the remainder of the tunnel to a second glade. “Come. Oma will explain through a demonstration.”

Rey, trading a look with BB-8, follows Oma into the second glade, where only flowers grow beneath a massive statue of a monk embedded into the cliff-face, their serene expression etched in an eternal sleep, a lightsaber unsheathed, the tip hovering over bare stone feet the size of Rey’s torso.

Oma walks to the foot of the statue, kneeling and muttering as she digs webbed fingers into the soil before pulling out a seed, looking to Rey with her fathomless eyes. “Does Rey know what happens when two seeds are planted beside the other?”

Rey shakes her head.

“In this soil,” the female recounts, placing the small seed into the earth, “only two things can happen. The first, the seeds will grow together, creating a stronger plant.”

Watching Oma, Rey moves closer, her eyes trained on the woman’s hand as it delicately plucks another seed. “And the second?”

Oma does not reply until the seed rests beside the other, her crystalline hand shimmering and dirty as it buries them both, side by side. “One survives… while the other withers.”

With a shake of her head, a web of red gills flapping, Oma moves on, digging more little holes with the seed pod cradled in her hand. Rey trails after her, her mind spinning, fingers clenching and sore. “What does that have to do with the Force?”

“Jedi Rey must have been called here,” Oma muses, ignoring her. “Arath is a hard planet to find. No one comes to this garden but Oma.”

Humoring her, if only in the hopes of finding answers, Rey latches on to Oma’s ramble, a thick wave rising in her gut. “I’m searching for someone. Someone important to me.”

Oma rises, dusting her hands on her robes. “There is no one here but Oma, and the Force, and the...” she holds her fingers to her mouth, pinching them like mandibles.

Rey lowers her head, offering a sincere smile. “I had a vision. A voice called me here. I must have met you for a reason. Perhaps you could help me?”

Blinking, Oma straightens. “It would be an honor to help a Jedi.”

Pushing away the feelings that title evokes within her, Rey takes her lightsaber from her belt, unlatching the mechanism to dump the crystal into her hand. She holds it out for Oma’s perusal. “The planet Ilum was destroyed and mined for kyber crystals. It was the place where Padawans would go to become Jedi. I…” Rey blinks. “I don’t think there are many left. But this one belonged to the person I’m looking for.”

“It has been bled,” Oma murmurs, taking it into her large hands with aching slowness. She studies it on all sides, squinting. “There was so much fear, so much pain, poured within it… But, now, it has been healed…” Her head snaps up. “Rey is looking for a Sith?”

“Not really.” Rey winces, scratching the loose hair behind her head, still dirty from the fall.

“Then what is Rey looking for?”

“I…” she glances away, the flowers dancing together in the soft wind, their petals caressing, kissing in the sunlight. “I’m looking for a way to resurrect the dead.”

She jumps as Oma hisses, her black fangs bared as she takes a step back, the scarlet swatch of webbed gills flaring and trembling. “That is darkness!” she snarls. “Darkness of the blackest pits!” She tosses the crystal to the soil at Rey’s feet. “No! Oma will _not_ help the Jedi!”

Bewildered, Rey gawks after her, her heart pounding. “What? No!” She scoops the precious crystal into her hands, shaking it towards the woman. “I was called here to find you! Please,” tears gather in her eyes, “you _have_ to help me!”

“Oma will _not_ betray the Light,” she growls, her deep voice shivering. “Already the Light is so weak, the galaxy thrown off-balance… Oma _cannot_ interfere—”

As she speaks, Rey holding back her desperate sobs, the ground rumbles beneath them, making the flowers tremble. BB-8 whines, backing away as the soil caves in between Rey and Oma, slithering a gouge in the earth that leads to the statue—and all at once a great _crack_ splinters through the stone, and the edifice splits itself in two.

Rey stands, staring, as the dust settles, before Oma places her webbed hand over her chest, stepping closer to the bare foot.

She lays hand on it as Rey looks on, wondering if she had done this, before Oma bows her head, murmuring and soothing her scaly palm over the rubble.

Clutching the crystal, Rey shakes her head. “I’m sorry,” she murmurs, voice dripping and thick. “I never meant to—”

“Oma will help.”

Rey blinks. “You will?”

Oma looks at Rey over her shoulder, nodding once.

“Thank you. Um,” Rey whispers, slowing her shuddering breaths, “what… are you? To the Force? I’m a… a Jedi, but…”

“Oma is a gardener. A cultivator.” She rises, bowing her head to the statue, grief laced shallowly beneath her reverence. “And the last Guardian of the Whills.”

 _The Whills._ Rey remembers this—the texts spoke of them, of monks, warriors, devotees of the Light and the Jedi teachings, devoted to protecting it, even if the Force did not manifest as profoundly within them. Heroes and martyrs, wiped out by the Empire.

Rey dares a step forward, still separated from Oma by the scar in the ground. “Oma?”

Oma glances at her.

She bows. “Thank you. I’ll do everything I can to make this right.”

Blinking slowly, Oma eventually nods. “Come. Oma will teach the Jedi what the Light demands.” She levels a finger at Rey’s nose. “But Rey must be willing to pay the price.”

“Anything,” she replies, her hold fixing over the healed crystal against her palm. “I’m ready.”

Oma frowns and turns away, trekking back down the path, abandoning the broken statue. The flowers swoon mournfully after her, her voice echoing through the walls of the crater. “We shall see.”

_We shall see._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Bleeding a Kyber crystal was a Dark side process of pouring one's hate, fear, pain, and malice into a kyber crystal (which is an inherently Light-side property). They can, however, be healed, as we have seen Ahsoka do in-canon, and restored to either a new or the same color as their master's]
> 
> [The Guardians of the Whills, as seen in media like Rogue One, were primarily Light-side protectors of Light side interests, including kyber crystals. They were a religious order that occupied the other end of the spectrum to the Sith Cult, and eventually devolved into a Resistance of monks as their numbers dwindled after the Invasion of Naboo]


	9. Reunited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oma helps Rey find a way back into the place where Ben has been waiting...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Social media is exhausting. Thanks for being such wonderful, generous, hopeful, insightful, and passionate Reylos. <3

With long, rapid strides, Oma leads Rey back to the first clearing. The setting sun flows over the rocks and leaves like water streams, birds taking roost overhead, nestling together for the coming night.

Rey watches them for only a moment as Oma sets keenly upon the pool beneath the tumbling waterfall, stopping before a muddy clod of reeds. Her tall, wraithlike figure turns, her scaly hide glimmering in rust and shadow. “What does Rey know about Kyber crystals?”

“Almost nothing,” Rey offers, looking down at the golden rock waiting dully in her hand.

Oma points a webbed finger at her, almost accusingly. “When Oma touched the kyber, the Force spoke to Oma, and showed a man. Rey did not see this man?”

“No…” Rey glances back and forth between Oma’s eyes, hope flaring in her chest. _Did she see Ben?_ “What did he look like?”

Dropping her long arm to her side, Oma frowns. “Human. _Powerful.”_

 _Not much of a description,_ Rey thinks, but decides not to question anything further. This was Ben’s crystal once—that she knows. But, “Why did it come to me? How? Did the Force say anything to you about that?”

Oma’s gills quiver once and she turns from Rey, her countenance melting as she kneels in the muck, combing through the reeds with tender fingers. “It did not have to say anything. A kyber crystal, though useable by anyone, can only be changed if the master allows.”

“But its master is dead,” Rey contests, stepping forward to watch Oma pop the reed-tops into her mouth. Her hope falls once more, exhaled from her in a breath. “How could I have healed it if he’s not here?”

Oma looks at her.

Rey blinks, gesturing to the crystal. “Is he… here?”

The first inklings of a smile break on Oma’s face before she goes back to her task, gathering the headless reed-stalks and pulling them from the ground. “When he died. Rey was there?”

“Yes.”

“And what did Rey see?”

Rey glances away, watching the water fall, pushing against the memory of the chanting, the strikes, and the quiet that followed—and failing. “Nothing. There was peace, but…” she shook her head, her throat beginning to close. “I couldn’t feel him anymore. It was as if he never existed.”

“Mm,” the woman nods, rising with a bundle of reeds in her clenched fist. “Come. Oma will show Rey what might have happened.”

Rey follows Oma without struggle away from the mire while BB-8 lingers behind, surprised when Oma ducks into a shaded orifice in the rocks behind the small waterfall. Spray licks at her neck and cheeks and shins, dark until Oma kicks a stone into the water, igniting the cave with more strange, glowing symbols.

While Oma leans over what seems to be a workshopping desk, littered with herbs and wooden baskets spilling over with vines and thorns—that wriggle and reach for her but are effortlessly batted away—Rey waits, her breathing short as the silence stretches on. “Please tell me, Oma. I need to know.”

Oma crushes the reeds with a stone, grinding them into dust, pounding harder than what many might consider necessary, before she stops, pinches some between her fingers, and smears it over one of the symbols.

The bright, golden light fades, changing into a bright violet under her thumb, casting them both in deep shadows as she turns, Oma’s eyes more endless and large in the dark. “There exist two powers within all living things,” she intones. “The spirit—the person—and the Force energy within. Oma believes people like Rey call it the ‘soul.’”

“Yes. The ancient texts…” Rey nods, stepping closer. “I read them. They said that the energy joins the Force when a Jedi dies.”

“Indeed. That is what should have happened.”

“Then what did?”

Oma sweeps her gaze over Rey before pressing a clawed fingertip gently against Rey’s breastbone, her voice scraping softly along the cavern walls. “It joined here.”

An image of Leia’s ghost touching her spreads a ghastly chill through her flesh, and she steps back. “He’s _inside_ me?”

“In a way. Oma believes so,” Oma shrugs, turning back to execute more reeds. “Whatever has happened, it is neither Light nor Dark. The Force took his energy, but his spirit remains with the Jedi Rey. Interesting. Strange, but interesting. Rey’s bond to him must be strong.”

“Must be,” Rey echoes softly, patting a restless hand through her tangled hair. “So what do we do?”

“Rey will lay down, before Oma gives her this,” she says, lifting a finger covered in dust. “Or Rey can stand. She will fall, but she may stand.”

“You aren’t trying to poison me now, are you?” Rey teases, trying to tamper the pounding in her chest. She paces to the back of the open space, seating herself into a hammock as she observes Oma mixing the powder with water from the streaming wall.

“Actually, Oma is,” Oma replies with a chuckle, swirling the container as she approaches Rey. The violet light of the symbols cast shimmering dust over her cheeks as she stoops, offering it to her. “The _Partus_ is medicine with blessings from the Light. It rises the spirit near the point of death, but will not kill. At least, not with so little.”

Rey looks into the eyes of this woman before studying the bowl of slime. She thinks of what she saw in her vision, when the voice first called to her. How Ben waited, fading under her palm, as her true body had gone numb from the cold night winds of Tatooine. Had she almost died? Was that truly the key to finding him? To bringing him back?

Whether it will prove true or not, Rey takes the bowl, holds her breath, and drinks.

**___**

_Pull back the curtain, Rey._

_Curtain?_ her minds calls back, steps carrying her over the dark and still waters. _What curtain?_

_Concealing what could always be found…_

She follows the voice, blind in the dark, observed by the countless swarm of stars all around her. Remembering the path, she looks down, her feet no longer bare and ethereal, but clothed and solid, gleaming pale as moonlight.

Rey doesn’t remember falling into this place, this silent, starry void empty of all but the call of the voice, the disturbance of the water. But she remembers how, _why,_ and soon after sees him—a rip in the fabric of something not-quite reality.

“Ben…” she whispers, his name carrying over the water, the power of it rising a wave under her feet. With a reach of her hand towards the mass of shadow, its energy twitches, expands, constricts, the aura around it rasping, weak.

When she comes closer she realizes he is no longer suspended on his feet, but lying on his back in the water. The glow from her body illuminates him and she whimpers, his ashen skin and chapped lips so still, so lifeless.

“Ben…” she murmurs, tears gathering in her eyes at the sight of him. She falls to her knees, her hand hovering over his face. Fear washes through her to think her touch will phase through him again, that she has grown no closer to truly finding him, but she swallows it down with the swell gathered in her throat, letting her hand fall against his cheek and beckoning, _begging,_ the Force to allow it. _“Be with me.”_

As soon as her flesh meets his, the water beneath them trembles, a deep and guttural gasp bellowing from the dead man’s chest, dark eyes opening, filled by starlight.

_Alive._

“Ben!” Rey sobs, her smile burning into her lips when he looks at her, recognition and _life_ so warm on his face. He’s only just sat up when she throws her arms over his cool neck, cradling him close. “I found you! I found you…”

The weight of his arms around her is hesitant and light, and Ben’s mind swims, dizzy from the grey surrounding them. What had happened to him? One moment he was nowhere, and now…

“Rey,” he croaks, his head lolling over hers, the hand over her hair falling limp to her back, lacking strength. He rests his forehead on her shoulder, the bleary sight of himself completely nude offering only the power for a small, rueful huff. “Do you have a cowl or something I could put on?”

Rey pauses in her tight embrace, suddenly _very_ determined not to look down. “Uh, yeah. Just a moment…” She reaches behind her belt and untucks her long sash, leaving her in only the thin undershirt and dirty trousers, and hands it to him, trying to ignore the ghostly light cast starkly over his body.

It only takes a few seconds for him to cover himself before he amasses enough strength to sit up on his own. He looks around them, his wet hair dripping onto his shoulders, every breath labored, before finding her eyes again—eyes that refuse to leave his face as he speaks. “You came for me.”

“I had to,” she smiles, boldly moving a strand of hair from his temple. It’s as soft as she’d dreamt it would be. “You came for _me.”_

Ben’s lips falter under her touch, eyes shining like onyx in the dark. “You were dead,” he whispers thickly. “I couldn’t…”

“I know,” Rey soothes, relief flowing through her being near him again. “I can’t let you go, either. I’m…” she ducks her head, watching her hand cover his, cold to the touch. “I’m sorry that I never stopped running from you. Even in the end.” Finally, a tear falls, the joy and grief within her too much to bear as the missing part of her slowly begins to fill. “But I’m here now. I won’t run to anything but you. I promise.”

A surge of power fills Ben and he takes her arm in his palm, the hand under hers turning, relishing the caress of her fingertips. Softly, a scoff tumbles from his lips, disbelief and ecstasy threading fine webs through the hollowness of him as he holds onto her, savoring this one moment, this dream, that will never come again.

“No.”

Rey blinks. “What?”

“I gave my life so you could live,” he replies, the gentleness of his voice making her quaver from how sorely she’d missed the sound of it—even when she’d tried to lie to herself, to say she despised him. “You know what you have to do.” He strokes her cheek, the chill of his pale flesh spreading like fractals over her face. “You have to let me go.”

Anger coils over Rey’s lips and she looks into his eyes, seeing only sadness there. “That’s not going to happen.”

“Rey—”

“No,” she snags his wrist, so large yet so frail in her grasp, pulling both of his hands to make him watch as she entangles their fingers. “You were right, Ben. We are supposed to stay together. Would you really let something like death stop us? Because I _won’t.”_

She doesn’t understand. Staring at her hands in his, Ben tightens the space between his fingers, testing the phantom sensations as her light bleeds over him like an open wound. Memories suffuse him at her touch, the realization of where he is rising on his tongue. But still he asks, “Where are we?”

“Inside of me, I think,” Rey murmurs, looking around. “I’m not sure.”

“I was pulled into the Force,” Ben recounts, his thoughts swimming. He meets her curious eyes, surprise lancing through him. “I heard your voice. You called for me.”

“I did.”

“Why?” he asks beneath furrowed brow. Why would she call for him, when everything was finished? Why not let him go, when his purpose had been fulfilled?

Rey smiles—a small thing, as her boldness begins to wane under his intense attention. Searching his eyes, hoping to find acceptance there, she leans forward. “Because we’re not done yet.”

Before she can allow herself to think better of it, Rey closes the distance, brushing her lips over his. His skin is still cold, but it's cleaner than the first time, and she pulls away, the feather-light touch still a spark on her flesh.

Ben’s eyes flutter closed, breath fleeing from him. “Oh.”

“Still want me to let you go?”

His eyes open, warm and knowing over an uneasy frown that could count as a smile—from him, at least. “It might take more convincing.”

Rey’s nose scrunches as she purses her lips at him, pleased enough by his mood to let him keep it, before she runs her thumbs over his hands, trying in vain to restore heat to them. “There’s something else.”

“Besides being trapped inside of your mind?” Ben queries. “I’ve been here before.”

“I know you have,” she huffs. “I’ve been in yours too, you know. But that’s not what I mean.”

Ben gazes at her, his eyes seeing more than the skin, and he offers, “Is it about Oma?”

Rey glances up. “How do you know about Oma?”

Ben cocks his head, drawing up his knee to shift and sit more comfortably with her, never once letting go. He frowns, the movement painful, even as the thrill of her kiss continues to writhe under his lips. “Now that I know I am in your head, it’s easier to see.” He closes his eyes, leaning his head against hers, sighing. “You’re worried.”

“You don’t have to be a mind-reader to tell that, Ben.”

The sound of his name on her lips is more intoxicating now than it has ever been, now that he can feel the softness within her whenever she says it. How long had she held this compassion for him? _From_ him? Then, the truth, unbelievable if one had told him prior to his own death, rises to the surface. “You’re trying to bring me back.”

Rey crushes his hands. “I told you I’m not letting you go.”

He opens his eyes, sinking into hers again. Oh, how he always adored those eyes… memory never captured their grace, their fury, quite so well as seeing them in person. “You haven’t found your answer yet, Rey. A kyber crystal and a few herbs can’t bring back the dead.”

“I know that,” Rey sighs, folding her lips. “Oma said that this, what’s happening to us, isn’t part of the Light, or the Dark. But now that you’re here, that I know _where_ to find you, how hard can it be to do the rest?”

Ben scoffs, shaking his head. “Tampering with life and death never ends well, Rey.”

 _“We_ didn’t end well, either,” she combats, pulling out of his hand to gesture around them. “All this talk of dyads and destinies, and what became of mine? What of _yours?!_ Ben,” she leans close, pleading with him to see reason, “we were so _close_ to finding the belonging, the _real_ belonging, we always wanted. What if this is a test—one last fight before we finally _win?_ I want our happy ending, Ben. More than anything...”

He considers her, unable to resist caressing the soft of her cheek. His voice comes as a whisper in the dark, the sadness and longing for her that lives on within him becoming all of his will. “I want that, too.”

Rey’s lashes flutter and she lets him touch her, the not-quite life of him filling her with a venomous anticipation, and searches his open face. “You offered to teach me, once. So teach me. What do I do now?”

A rueful smirk quirks on his pale, chapped lips. “You already have an idea. I think your instincts are the right ones.”

Rey nods. There were no answers within the Jedi texts, and with Oma’s obvious disdain for resurrection, there seems to be only one place left to look.

“The Dark Side.”

Ben glances at her mouth, not missing the hesitation in her voice. “Start with Mustafar. There’s a fortress that might hold some answers.”

Rey holds onto him, feeling the energy within her begin to dissipate. She can feel it—she will begin to sink at any moment.

Ben feels it, too, and takes her shoulders into his hands. She’s so warm, so frightened and full of hope, and now more than ever he wants to tell her—

She presses her fingers to his lips, a sheen of happiness shimmering in her eyes as the stars begin to dim around them. She smiles, so bright and so full, more than she’s ever felt before. To herself or anyone else. “Not yet. Soon, you can tell me yourself.”

He nods, willing himself to hold those thoughts back, but allowing himself this—he cups a hand behind her head and brings his lips to hers, so slowly, afraid he will miss, before sinking into her embrace, learning how to move and mold, to savor the feeling of her mouth against his skin and her nose caressing his and her heart hammering in his ears before she is taken from him by the dark.


	10. The Second Seed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plot twist!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to the people reading leaving such kind feedback <3 Your support helps more than you know. Hoping the new year will get better soon!

Her eyes open and the light is gone.

She sits up in the darkness of the cave, a chill passing over her shoulders. The memory of Ben’s kiss fresh in her mind, twitching in the corner of her lips, she reaches and feels her bare collar. The sash has disappeared.

It was real. _All of it._

Laughing from deep in her chest, once and hard and full, she swings from the hammock, stumbling past the thin wall of water before emerging into the dull clearing. “Oma!” she cries. “Oma!”

A shining head surfaces from the pond behind her, Oma’s wide eyes blinking. “Here, Jedi.”

Rey spins, crouching at the lip of the pond, BB-8 watching surprised by the sunny beam splitting her face. “It worked. The medicine worked! You were right about everything.” She motions to her thin shirt. “He’s inside me. I saw him.”

“Rey more than ‘saw,’ Oma thinks,” the guardian smarts, climbing from the water.

Rey steps back, giving room to the taller woman (as politely as one can when trying not to wonder about nudity). “I need to go to Mustafar. You said this wasn’t Light—but the Dark Side might have some answers.”

Oma fixes her a look. “Jedi do not tamper with the Dark Side. Rey should stay here, with Oma. Find another way.”

“But this is the closest I have ever been,” Rey replies, watching Oma sit upon a boulder and peel at what appears to be a layer of dead skin. She thinks, then offers, “What if I went there, then come back? I do want to learn more about you, about the Guardians of the Whills.”

“Rey can never become a guardian if she lets the darkness into her heart,” Oma says, shaking her head. Water leaks from the scarlet folds of her gills, dark like blood in the morning dawn, when she meets her eyes. “Does the Jedi Rey know the color of the kyber she carries?”

“Gold.” Rey squints, wondering at the question. “Yellow, too. Like the sun.”

“Bright, like curiosity.” Oma rises, gesturing to the top of the crater, where the sky sits in grey patience. “The kyber is a symbol, Rey—the color dependent on the heart of its master. It has called Rey to seek knowledge. Oma can provide some, but not all. No. Rey will not be a guardian.” She frowns, her arm falling, as if defeated. “Or a Jedi.”

“Not a Jedi…?” Pausing, Rey studies the sullen look on Oma’s face, and recognizes a pinch of knowing there. “You’ve seen something,” she murmurs.

Oma nods, and need not beckon Rey to follow her back through the tunnel, to where the statue stands silent and broken, watching over them. The flora waits in the stillness under their feet as Oma sinks to her knees, patting the grass for Rey to join her.

When she does, Oma does not look at her.

“Many days ago, Oma felt a great darkness surge in the galaxy, and then, all was taken away. The Light became all there was—more than has ever been since before the teacher before Oma’s teacher. Suddenly, all the guardians have fought for became… victory.”

Rey’s fingers twitch against the cloth over her thighs, a cold vine slipping from the grass to wrap gently around one. She caresses it softly and it stills, almost serene under her attention. “I felt it, too,” she sighs. Of course she’d felt it—a hollow sense of triumph, the hope of the win the only thing to distract her from the empty spaces gouged into her. “But the Force won’t come to me now. I don’t know what’s changed.”

“It is something, Oma fears, the guardians never thought would occur.” She bows her head, closing her eyes, as if in prayer. “For generations, they fought against a darkness that has always lived on in the Sith. Always two Sith. But the first went thirty years ago, and the second never followed. Until now.”

“Vader,” Rey whispers, clutching the vine. _Palpatine._

“The greatest darkness in the galaxy is gone,” Oma intones gravely. “The Force is out of balance—now more than ever.”

“What does that have to do with the Light?” Rey challenges, heat beginning to rise in her cheeks. Was everything she’d done a mistake? “This should be a good thing; it’s what we’ve been fighting for all this time.”

“The seeds can only grow in two ways—if they do not grow together, then only one will live while the other dies.” At last Oma meets Rey’s eyes, their darkness flush with a sheen of wetness as the sunlight finally breaks through the glen. “Rey. _We_ are the other seed.”

Rey blinks, her blood running cold. “You mean we’ll… _die?”_

“All of us. Oma. Rey. Her friends—everyone.” Oma leans closer, resting her scaly hand over Rey’s, the vine curling around them, growing too fast to measure. “There must be balance. Life, and death. Light, and Dark. Too much of either will bring an end to the galaxy.”

Rey rises, ripping from the vine, leaving it coiled and missing her warmth, and presses a hand to her head, as if it will hold everything in place while she throbs. In destroying the darkness, the Light will grow beyond control? How could that be, when all she knew, all she was taught, said it was the right thing? “What have I done?” she whispers, watching in horror as the vine, and more with it, spawn from the amber soil.

Oma snatches them from the earth before they can envelop Rey’s boot, tossing their now-lifeless stems to the foot of the statue. She rises to stand before Rey, her webbed fingers open wide in a welcoming call for embrace. “There is only one Jedi, and only one guardian. Oma will not betray the Light she vowed to protect. But the Jedi is more powerful. _Rey_ is more powerful. There is still hope.”

“But not with you,” Rey whimpers, working back the tightness winding in her jaw. The truth is still worming though her, not yet tangible, but so real in the voice that tells her it was all _her_ doing.

Not only had she and Ben been robbed of their happy ending, no—she has taken everyone else’s.

And the Jedi helped her do it.

“Rey,” Oma reaches for her, hovering a fingertip above her chest. “There is something at work here. Unseen since the beginning of the Whills itself. _Find_ it. _Please.”_

Rey almost takes a step back, but hesitates.

_I’m sorry I never stopped running._

_I’ll never run to anything but you._

“I have to go to Mustafar,” Rey murmurs, taking Oma’s hand and squeezing. “If everything points to the Dark, perhaps what leads to Ben could lead to something more.”

“Then go,” Oma nods, “and take this.”

Rey watches as Oma’s eyes roll into her skull, her throat billowing wide before she gags, spitting a steaming clump of soil into her palm, pressing it into Rey’s hands.

“Partus grows where the water is pure. Oma has already filled Rey's packings with what it could carry.” She smiles, cupping Rey’s skin, her touch cool and tender. “A garden is destined to grow—but we must plant the seed where we want that destiny to go.”

Rey nods, tears stinging in her eyes as the pressure is lifted, somewhat, by Oma’s soft words. “Thank you,” she bows her head, “Master Oma.”

Oma leans down, touching the tip of her muzzle to Rey’s hair before releasing her. She steps back as BB-8 rolls into the clearing, whizzing a rapid spew of astromech.

“What does the tiny thing say?” Oma asks.

Rey frowns, cradling the pod as she crouches to look the droid in the eye. “It’s a distress signal from the Resistance. They’re asking for me.” She shakes her head, staring at the pod in her hands. “I can’t abandon them.”

“Rey must do what Rey must do,” Oma says, a dark thread of warning in her voice. “All choices come with a price.”

Rey knows that more than anyone. For fourteen years, she chose to wait on a planet she knew would offer nothing for her. For her whole life, she waited for a family to make sense of her. But when destiny finally came—all the waiting was for nothing. Nothing, except for the ones she loves.

The ones who need her help.

 _I’m sorry, Ben,_ she thinks behind closed eyes, hoping he can hear her. _I can’t run to you yet. But I’m coming. I won’t let go._

“I have to leave,” Rey decides, turning to Oma. “But I won’t give up. I won’t forget what I’ve learned here.”

“Then there is still hope.” Oma smiles, upholding a glimmering hand. “May the Force be with Rey, always.”

Rey bows in thanks once more before following BB-8 back towards the cave entrance, but before leaving takes one last look as Oma holds her arms open to the statue, the light from above washing over her as she chants, “Oma is one with the Force, and the Force is with Oma. Oma is one with the Force, and the Force is with Oma…”

 _I am one with the Force,_ Rey ingests, hoping beyond hope that, as she leaves this place, the Force—the Light—she serves will have mercy on her.

Have mercy on them all.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and support of any kind are appreciated as I am very unused to canonverse fic these days. Don't forget to hit subscribe to get alerts on chapter updates, if you want. *hugs*


End file.
